


Pillow Talk

by Cephy



Series: Abyss college AU [7]
Category: Tales of the Abyss
Genre: Alternate Universe - College, Incest, Multi, Threesome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-04-27
Updated: 2008-04-27
Packaged: 2017-10-05 17:59:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 932
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/44497
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cephy/pseuds/Cephy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Part 7 of the Abyss College AU series, in which our heroes discuss the past.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pillow Talk

It was when someone made an innocent, offhand comment about the possible professions of Guy's parents that Guy himself realized-- they may have been going at it like rabbits for two weeks, but they really didn't know anything about each other. And in the wake of that realization he must have been quiet a little too long, because both of them were looking at him with faintly worried expressions.

So he did his best to smile reassuringly-- not as hard as it had once been, the time had been long enough perhaps-- and tried to explain. "I'm actually an orphan. My parents-- died, when I was younger, and I was raised by my uncle instead. Well," he amended, "my mother's uncle."

Asch's eyes were wide; Luke looked absolutely stricken, which made him feel a bit guilty-- but experience had taught him that there really was no gentle way to break the news, that it was best just to lay it out in the open all at once. "It's okay," he said, knowing that his smile was probably a little rueful, "it was a long time ago."

Asch frowned, a little. "We didn't mean to--"

Guy shook his head. "It's okay," he repeated. "Really."

Except later, when they were worn out and curled up together in the near-darkness, Guy found himself awake, staring at the ceiling, unaccountably restless. He tried his best to keep still, but eventually heard a faint sigh from one side as the blankets shifted; he turned his head and found himself looking at green eyes a very short distance away. "What's wrong?" Asch asked quietly.

_Nothing_, was the automatic response, but something about the quiet and the dark seemed to demand honesty. "I don't know," Guy admitted. "Just-- can't seem to get to sleep. Thinking too much, maybe."

"About?"

"I don't know," he repeated. Only when he sighed and blinked his eyes closed, he saw a different darkness, heard a different voice--

He shivered, and Asch curled a warm hand against his ribs.

"Luke was kidnapped when we were ten," Asch murmured suddenly. "Taken right out of our back yard, with a ransom note left behind. They caught the man responsible within fourty-eight hours, I don't think he was that good at being a criminal. But it-- well, they tell me I didn't stop crying until we got him back," he said, and though Guy could _hear_ him rolling his eyes, there was also a sudden tension in his frame. "And when we did-- he was so _quiet_, he wouldn't talk to any of us. I remember sitting there on his bed, not wanting to leave him alone in case he vanished again."

Guy drew in a sharp breath, only to let it out again voiceless-- because really, what could he say? He certainly never would have suspected from Luke's behaviour that he'd gone through an experience like that.

But people did learn to hide their scars, didn't they?

For a moment he was struck by a sense of guilt, that they were lying there talking about Luke while Luke himself was out cold on the other half of the bed, limply relaxed and oblivious to it all. But-- he somehow didn't think that the younger twin would mind. It sometimes seemed rather like what one knew, both knew, after all. And it was easy to say this sort of thing in the dark, pillow-to-pillow, whereas in the light of day it would have been impossible.

And that-- was kind of the point, wasn't it?

"I was five," he started, "I don't remember it very well. My sister-- Mary-- she came into my room and woke me up, told me to hide and not come out. Then she left again. I-- there was this high shelf in my closet, I used to climb up there and pretend it was-- a castle, or something, I don't know. So I went up there, and I stayed there while--"

His breath caught, and it was impossible to say it out loud, even in the dark. Impossible to describe hearing heavy footsteps, crashes, people yelling-- sharp sounds that he hadn't known, but knew now had to have been gunshots. Impossible to put to words the one terrifying moment of peering out and seeing shadowed forms moving around his room. "I remember not wanting to come out," he eventually continued, "even when it finally went quiet. The police showed up, but I still wouldn't come out-- they eventually had to go get one of our neighbours to talk me down."

A few breaths, as the words tapered off and left him feeling drained, raw. Asch's fingers slid up his arm, ran through his hair and settled against his jaw, and the implied comfort might have been what let the rest of it come out. "You know," he said, "I don't really remember their voices. I'm not sure I really remember them at all."

A moment, while the silence descended thick and intimate, and then-- at his back, Luke grumbled in his sleep and rolled over, slinging an arm over both of them before settling with a sigh, and Guy surprised himself with a laugh, albeit one that might not have sounded quite steady. Asch muttered under his breath and shoved at the offending arm, prompting a discontented sound from Luke, and Guy blinked into a smile as the moment passed, the tension drained away; blinked again and found his eyelids heavy.

Asch leaned in and kissed him, a slow press of lips, and Guy drifted to sleep to the reassuring sounds of their breathing.


End file.
